Before we get into speculation about whether Daft Punk is going to show up unannounced this year — I write this having just witnessed an ecstatic stampede of fans who flooded the Gobi tent at the mere sight of a commercial for DP’s May release “Random Access Memories” — let’s first focus on what’s most obvious.

That is: It sure seems like there are a lot more people here than usual. Either that, or some bands are having bigger-than-expected breakout moments.

You could notice — no, palpably feel — the crowds swelling by late afternoon, especially in the medium-size Mojave tent. Granted, to some degree that’s typical; Coachellans will sit through just about anything if it means getting some midday shade.

But there weren’t so many lookie-loo’s this afternoon as there were committed devotees. Hardly anyone was sitting during Johnny Marr’s straightforward but very strong set, bolstered by terrific Smiths covers: “Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before” to open; a shimmering rendition of “There Is a Light That Never Goes Out” because “you seem like a friendly bunch … let’s do something friendly”; and a robust handling of “How Soon Is Now?” that, via Marr’s iconic guitar part, easily made up for its lack of Morrissey vocals. (Bummer about no version of “Getting Away with It,” supported by a wished-for cameo from Bernard Sumner.)

Unless you stuck around Mojave after that turn, you pretty much couldn’t get in for a decent view of electro-rock newcomers Alt-J, who drew an overflow crowd for a lively but energetically inconsistent set that nonetheless hinted at the growing and roving throngs that have come to dominate parts of the field today.

Not everywhere, mind you: a little while ago, in that same tent where Marr and Alt-J had just packed ’em in, the Mael brothers of legendary L.A. band Sparks gave their all in piano-and-voice mode before a crowd of, well, hundreds. They could have comfortably fit inside Santa Ana’s Observatory.

And still they were wonderfully eccentric and borderline operatic on rearrangements of synth ditty “Angst in My Pants” and glam anthem “Never Turn Your Back on Mother Earth,” Ron Mael playing with Elton John grandeur, vocalist sibling Russell, in capris and knee-high socks, achieving a stateliness I’ve only seen from Neil Tennant of Pet Shop Boys. Plus, the out-of-character jazzy moves that otherwise stoic, Chaplinesque keyboardist Ron indulged on the Kraftwerkian minimalism of “Beat the Clock” was a hoot.

That was a rare treat, a sip of fine brandy to take the edge off. Everywhere else, however, it’s been log-jammed with kite-high party people chasing after slivers of thrills. Icelandic alt-folk outfit Of Monsters and Men garnered an enormous crowd of ’em to the second stage, almost to the scale that Phoenix drew in 2010, tens of thousands of people stretching back so far, it became hard to tell where their audience ended and Passion Pit’s began at the main stage. Certainly took a good long while to bob and weave between people to get from one spot to the other. I wonder how many people were actually able to bask in the fun of either group’s KROQ hits, though it seemed like more might have been on hand for OM&M’s “Little Talks” than the Pit’s dancier chants.

Yet does such a huge turnout really mean either group is taking shape as a major player? I tend to think not. Enjoyable though both groups were here, and the falsetto cuts from Passion Pit were particularly ebullient, their appeal smacks of flavor-of-the-moment enthusiasm more than the emergence of lasting scene-shifters. Even in hipster indie land, people go nuts for what they’ve been fed. Case in point: they didn’t flock in quite the same numbers to groove to and then mellow out with a superior band, Local Natives, whose less-noticed new stuff was beat-driven in the most tantalizing way while still being gauzy enough overall to enhance a blissful sunset.

That said, the crowds for all of the above combined pale in comparison to what’s going down at a magnificently restructured Sahara tent — taller, wider, bigger, bolder. I finally got out there to check out Skrillex’s new project Dog Blood and not only is the entire area flooded with glowing dancers in the dark, the spectacle from the stage is staggering: larger-than-life like Las Vegas, several stories high, with giant video cubes dangling from the top. The inside panels of the tent have been blackened, helping the lights and lasers pop even more powerfully. When it all goes wild, it’s overwhelming enough to give half of Indio epilepsy.

That EDM element has always created another festival unto itself at Coachella. But this time it seems more gargantuan than ever … which would explain why, now that darkness has settled over the nearby mountains, Sahara is pulling some of the masses away from the main stage. That’s where Yeah Yeah Yeahs just tore it up, Karen O howling into her mic (practically swallowing it sometimes) yet bringing a clearer approach to “Gold Lion” and “Maps.”

Sight of all sights, however, has been that mad dash for Daft Punk that I stumbled upon at Gobi. People went insane the second the duo’s logo suddenly appeared on the video screens adorning that stage. The place went from empty (former Dead Kennedys frontman Jello Biafra had cleared it out) to being completely full, as people cheered for an ad as if the real thing were about to play.

The spot for “RAM” did mention that the rabidly awaited disc will feature guest turns from Julian Casablancas of the Strokes, disco mavens Giorgio Moroder and Nile Rodgers, and Pharrell Williams, who appeared in the clip. The big talk is that Daft Punk will turn up Saturday night during fellow Frenchmen Phoenix’s headlining set. They did something similar, after all, when Phoenix played Madison Square Garden not so long ago. And if Coachella has set any kind of precedent for itself in recent years, it’s by way of main-stage stunts: hologram Tupac, Kanye’s minimalist marvel, Arcade Fire’s cascade of glowing balloons, the entirety of Roger Waters’ appearance.

None of the other chief attractions (Blur, Stone Roses, Chili Peppers) seems poised to do anything remotely surprising, no matter how sharp or dull they sound. Phoenix will already rule its night, unifying the event like no other act. But a Daft Punk cameo would be the talk of the fest.

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